Jessica Milikan, Hard Luck Trainer
by MiscellaneousSoup
Summary: It's time for the most awkward Pokemon quest in the world! Meet Jessica Milikan and her weird Pokemon as they try to be the best there ever was! Or, more likely, the most participatory there ever was. You do get a medal for that, right?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Something different than my usual style. More stories to come next week, for this and for my neglected tales! Read and review, if you please! Have an excellent day!**

I need to pee. Like, really badly. 'Just been on a ten mile hiking trip in the Sahara' badly. Unfortunately, my idiot Girafarig thinks that it's a human and, consequently, _has_ to use _our_ toilet.

I banged on the door. "Yo, Jimbo! Other people have to use the bathroom! Wait, what am I saying? _You're a Pokemon_! Get it?"

The door cracked open and a roll of toilet paper nailed me in the forehead. Sighing, I slumped against the wall. Sometimes, being a Pokemon trainer sucked.

**Jessica Milikan, Hard Luck Trainer**

By MiscellaneousSoup

So, my usual exciting schedule goes a little something like this.

_6:25 am: Wake up._

_6:30 am: Wake up Girafarig._

_6:45 am: Continue trying to wake up Girafarig._

_7:00 am: Give up and get ready for the morning._

_7:15 am: Eat Mom's famous pancakes. Ignore Girafarig's pleading eyes. Show no mercy. If he gets even one crumb, he'll leap onto my plate and get everything. It's happened before._

_7:15:30 am: Give Girafarig a pancake, laugh as he licks my face._

_7:32 am: Take Girafarig out for a good training session. Or, at the very least, _a _training session._

_7:35 am: Teach Girafarig Quick Attack._

_7:40 am: Sigh and try again._

_7:45 am: Avoid getting trampled by obstinate Girafarig._

_7:50 am: Girafarig uses Quick Attack...on me. Give up and take a shower. Wipe off dirt, grass stains, and mud clumps._

_8:15 am: Longingly look at motivational posters of Pokemon trainers._

_8:20 am: Grow frustrated and tear apart posters._

_8:25 am: Lovingly repair posters with tape. Note to Self: These are getting raggedy. Get new posters._

_8:30-Variable: Do nothing, eat meals, go to bed._

See? Nothing. Nada. A big stinking clump of boredom and incompetence. When my friends were ten, they found good starter Pokemon. I got a stubborn, lazy, smelly Girafarig. Why a Girafarig? They're hardly in our town! Naive little ten-year-old me tried to train it and failed. Naive little ten-year-old friends successfully trained their Pikachu, Gengar, Bulbasar, or what have you. Even grade-A moron Bobby got his Klefki to capture a legendary Pokemon. Cynical sixteen year old me is bored to tears in a small town. What is there to do? Usually, everyone's a trainer by ten. If you're like me, you're going to get stuck working at the PokeCenter or PokeMall or something until the sweet release of death. Well, death or a good Pokemon.

Am I really the only teenager in town? No! There's others who took some alternate jobs, but they require being good with Pokemon. Also, they require people skills and I think that most people are the Devil's toenail crust. At least they are in my town. Do you know what they call me? Jessica "Milk Man" Milikan! If they want to make up a degrading nickname, they could at least make up an interesting one! For God's sake, 'milk can' sounds more like Milikan, but I'm not about to correct them. Things may be intolerable, but they can't be worse. This is the Lord Of Darkness, signing off. Peace.

Sighing, I posted the blog post to my blog, . . I like my blog. It keeps me sane. Now, what else to do? Browse the Internet for more training tips? Search for more motivational posters? Watch clips of comedians? Before I could enter anything into the browser, my mom called me into her office.

Grumbling, I closed the laptop and trudged in. "Yes, Mom?"

She waved at me and continued organizing some papers. "Jess, I have some good news."

News of a good variety? This intrigued me. I decided to take the bait. "What is it? Did you trade in Girafarig for a new Pokemon?"

Mom put down her papers and chuckled. "Sweetie, I would never do that. Girafarig loves out." Outside, I could hear him chewing up what sounded suspiciously like the remains of my posters! I hated going through his poop.

"You have a job."

I started coughing. "Sorry, what?"

Mom smiled. "A job! The leader of the Young Trainer League. I volunteered you to take his place last week. The letter came today!"

I smiled weakly. "Thanks, Mom! That's great. I'm going to go look up some more information on Girafarigs. Bye!"

Quickly, I scurried to my room. Crap, crap, CRAP! I hated the YTL! It's full of snooty little kids! The little brats throw mud at me when they see me trying to walk my Girafarig. Back when _I_ was a snooty member, we had respect! Worst of all, how could I teach a dozen or so little kids how to train their Pokemon if I couldn't even get mine under control? Oh, well. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Statistically, Girafarig couldn't be the worst Pokemon in the world!

Inside my room, Girafarig was pooping on my pillow. Yeah, these next few weeks were going to be _spectacular_.

_To be continued..._


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hello, everyone! This is the second chapter of my Pokemon epic! Also, Jessica's blog is real, but when I used the URL last chapter, it was deleted. It's "pokenobody" dot "wordpress" dot "com"! It says 'poke' because I don't know how to get the grammatical symbol on there. Substitute the word 'dot' for actual periods. I will be maintaining it in character for supplementary information. Have an excellent day! **

They say that when you start a new adventure or hobby, it's the first day of the rest of your life. It's become a cliche. Well, if you're like me, then you're about to teach ten-year-olds how to control possibly deadly animals, only armed with a lazy Girafarig. _Ten-year-olds_. Today might just be the last day of my life.

**Jessica Milikan, Hard Luck Trainer**

By MiscellaneousSoup

I knelt down by my Girafarig, trying to look as sincere as possible. "Okay, Jimbo. I am teaching little kids about Pokemon training. I have to bring you along. Can you be helpful, for once? Please?" Jimbo stared at me. I scratched his ear, trying to psychically communicate the importance of what was about to happen. He sneezed. Grumbling, I stood up, wiped my face off, and grabbed a leash for Jimbo. (It's a long story.) Time to see exactly how painful the next six weeks would be. Maybe I would get lucky and this would be safe.

/

Every single kid had some kind of fire Pokemon. Why? I scanned the row of children; some happy, some bored, others engrossed in trying to sneak in some last minute cuddle time. Next to them stood about five Charmanders, a Vulpix, and a Tepig. Jimbo squeaked nervously.

I blew my whistle. "Okay, everyone. Welcome to the first meeting of the new and improved Young Trainer League. I trust that there will be _no _throwing of mud." A clump of mud sailed past my head.

"Hey!" I looked through the crowd. "Who did that?" The kids shuffled around, suddenly really interested in the ground. Please tell me they weren't searching for more mud to throw. I needed a distraction. What distracts ten-year-olds? Ah-ha!

I scooped up Girafarig. "Who wants a story?" More mud sailed past my head. "Okay, that's not nice."

A small voice piped up from the back of the huddle. "When're we going to learn about Pokemon training?"

I smiled. "Um, okay. Good question! So, you have just gotten your Pokemon. For some reason, you all chose Fire types. Looks like we have some budding pyromaniacs!" No response. I knew that starting off with a joke would be a bad idea.

A shrimpy kid near the front raised his hand. "My mommy says that you're only the teacher because someone felt sorry for you. You can't even control your Pokemon."

I pointed to Jimbo. "That is not true. I got the job because my mom…Okay, new subject, enough nepotism, or whatever! The basics of Pokemon training include having a good bond with your starter Pokemon. As you can see, I have an adorable Girafarig named Jimbo. Nicknames are optional, but it may help the bonding process." Jimbo grunted and started licking the ground. "Yes, very cute. What have you named your Pokemon?"

The same kid from the front raised his hand. "My mommy says that nicknaming Pokemon is a sign of unhealthy emotional attachments."

I smiled weakly. "Well, your mom is wrong. Does anyone else have anything to say?"

The kid at the back spoke up again. "I need to use the bathroom."

I sighed and pointed to the nearest building, a store for Pokemon clothing. "There's a bathroom in there." She ran off, dragging her Tepig with her.

As one, the kids started to run around the meadow, calling out random attacks and squealing when tiny bursts of fire came out. Okay, I guess it was free time. I sat on a log, thinking about what to do for the rest of the class. I have at least two disruptive students and the other five were hyper. Maybe I could talk about taking care of a Pokemon?

Before I could start the new topic, I felt someone tapping me on the shoulder. It was the little girl with the Tepig. "Why aren't you a Pokemon trainer?"

I nudged Jimbo. "Because this little guy is stubborn and won't listen to what I say. The only exceptions involve food and playtime."

She scratched him. "It sounds like you gave up."

I laughed. "No, I didn't give up. After weeks of trying, I realized that he wouldn't pay attention and turned to...other pursuits." Yeah, like blogging and looking up motivational posters.

She cuddled Jimbo. "Are you sure? It doesn't seem like you've been doing anything. Maybe the problem isn't the Girafarig. Maybe you're not confident enough." She picked up the Tepig and walked over to the other children.

I leaned back on the log, thinking. Maybe she was right. Other than a few babysitting and cleanup jobs, I hadn't accomplished a lot. Maybe if I actually tried to go on a Pokemon journey with Jimbo, things wouldn't be so bad.

I nudged him with my foot. "Hey! Jimbo, use Quick Attack!" He looked up at me sleepily. "Gira?"

I tickled him under the chin. "Please?" He gave me a disdainful look that probably said something like 'This is my resting time! Begone!' I wasn't going to give up this time. I pulled out a secret weapon.

I waggled it in front of his nose. "Okay, little guy. If you do a Quick Attack on the tree, I'll give you this treat. Come on, boy! Want the treat? You can do it!"

Jimbo yawned, twitched, and hopped on the ground. He peered at the treat, salivating. I waggled it in front of his face. Slowly, he rushed at the tree, splintering it.

"Great job!" I hugged him. Maybe this would work!

Keeping an eye on the kids, I pulled out my cell phone. "Mom? Are you there? I've actually gotten Jimbo to do something. I think that I'm ready to go on a Pokemon journey! Ow! Okay, stop screaming. Are you crying from impending loneliness or happiness? Okay, happiness. Can you ask someone to take over the class? I have to get to Professor Johnson!"

/

One hour later, I was at Professor Johnson's. Yeah, I couldn't skip the rest of the session. Tentatively, I knocked on the door. I heard screaming from inside, then someone telling me to come in.

The professor was cowering behind a desk. "You monster! Okay, here's another Klefki! Take them all! JUST TAKE THEM!"

"Uh, I'm Jessica. Bobby only came back two weeks ago. As far as I know, he left."

The professor stood up and brushed off his suit. "Apologies, Jessica. I'm still getting flashbacks. So many bodies…" He looked into the distance for a second. "Anyway, I have your form right here. Just fill it out and you'll be ready to go. I put your Pokedex, Pokemon food, and some spare Pokeballs in a suitcase. I assume that you have toiletries, money, clothes, and food for yourself."

"Yes." I filled out the form and picked up the suitcase. "Thanks, professor! If I see Bobby coming back for more Pokemon, then I'll trick him into going somewhere else."

As I left, I heard Professor Johnson talking on the phone. "No, I'm not the incompetent police officer. You're thinking of my brother, Hank. I'm Kirk."

I was finally going on a Pokemon journey! Let's just hope that Jimbo helping me wasn't just a fluke…

_To be continued..._


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: This is the third chapter in Jessica's journey to becoming a Pokemon master! Or, at least, a fairly competent Pokemon trainer. I don't own anything. Read and review, if you please.**

So, you may be wondering why I didn't try to bribe Jimbo with a treat in the first place. It's mainly because I didn't want to get him addicted to treats. If he gets rewarded every time he did something good, he would expect it every time. It's not healthy for a growing Pokemon toget an overabundance of treats. I promised myself that I would only do this rarely and it seemed to have worked! Well,_ temporarily _worked.

"Come on! Please? Pretty please?" I tickled Jimbo, but that elicited no response. Okay, it was time for a new tactic. "Look, my cousins might come over again." That got his attention. Jimbo looked up at me curiously.

"Yeah, my cousins. Do you remember them? They like to put fancy makeup on Pokemon and put them in stupid costumes. If I'm not at home, then we won't have to deal with them. So, if you don't cooperate, I'll have to go home. And they just _love_ their surprise visits. _Comprende?_" Ah, threats. The way to a Pokemon's heart.

**Jessica Milikan, Hard Luck Trainer**

**by MiscellaneousSoup**

_I've been walking for almost three hours. I may have done a fairly decent job of packing a suitcase, but I should have bought some kind of bike. I know that they sell them, so why didn't I think of getting one? It was probably just the excitement. Come to think of it, did Jimbo even pay attention to me? Was it just a coincidence? You know what, this journal isn't really helping me. I'm just getting paranoid. Subject change._

_Loyal readers (of which I assume there's at least one), my region isn't the most well-known. It's the Minnow region; fairly tiny, but still productive. We live near a harbor and Pokemon are constantly being traded back and forth. It accounts for why we can have Girafarig one day and a horde of Fire types the next day. We're really far away from other towns, so I definitely should have made a plan for transportation._

_Writing this journal isn't making me less sleepy and I think that Jimbo is starting to fall behind. I'd better end this blog for the night. I really hope that by the time I post again, I'll have more success._

_Sincerely,_

_JeMil; aka "A Nickname That I Never Want To Possess"._

_8:35 am…_

"SKAR! SKAR!" A Skarmory was perched somewhere by the nearest tree, shrieking. Groaning, I brushed off my neck pillow and tried to rouse Jimbo. He hopped up and started licking my hand.

Stretching, I pulled out some fruit for myself and a nice handful of Pokechow for Jimbo. "Okay, little guy. We're about two hours away from Custard Town. Let's get a move on!"

As I got closer to the trees, I started to hear something rustling in the distance. Could it be my first Pokemon battle? Slowly, I edged closer, shushing Jimbo as I went along. When I got closer to the door, a figure popped out and threw something at me. I screamed and whacked it with a tree branch. What can I say? I don't really like mysterious things jumping out at me.

The figure raised its hands, trying to appear passive. "Don't kill me! I'm a Pokemon trainer! I'm just a kid!"

I set the tree branch down. "Sorry, kid. I thought you were a Pokemon."

The kid held up a shiny Pokeball. "Say, are you a trainer?"

I nodded. "Yes, I am."

The kid grinned. "Yeah! I'm going to beat my first senior trainer! I, Youngster Dipper, challenge you to a Pokemon battle! I have shorts and determination!"

"Wait, wait, wait." I pointed to Jimbo, who looked dangerously close to using the bathroom on the Dipper's leg. "This guy is my only Pokemon and his mood varies from delusions of being a human to being lazy."

Dipper set down the Pokeball. "Wait, wait. You're just starting out? You're, what, seventeen? I'm twelve and I already have four Pokemon! That's pathetic."

I was starting to get annoyed. "For the record, I'm sixteen and I've had some trouble, dude. I'm sorry, but I can't battle you at the moment. Maybe later?"

The kid held out his hand. "In that case, I need some money. Technically, I've won by a forfeit. The rules declare that the loser of a Pokemon battle must deliver a monetary payment to the winner. Give me some money or risk something bad. I don't know what, exactly, I've never had something this stupid happen."

Sighing, I rummaged through my wallet. "Here's a gumball and ten dollars. Happy?" As he walked away, I gathered my things and started walking, Jimbo at my side. Smarmy brat. I _really_ hoped that he wouldn't be my rival.

Two and a half hours later, I had finally made it to the borders of Custard Town. Unless you count the multiple snack breaks, bathroom breaks, and chasing after Jimbo three times to stop him from mauling a Sparrow. A patrol guard stood nearby. When he saw me, he straightened up. "Excuse me, are you a Pokemon trainer?"

I held up my briefcase. "Yup, nametags and everything. I'm Jessica, by the way."

He smiled with joy. "This is excellent! You're the first Pokemon trainer in _ages_! Well, the first nice one, anyway. We're a small town, so if you look ahead, you'll see a Pokemon center, a small pagent area, the police headquarters, and a smattering of houses. The one with the green roof is a spare room for any travelers. We have a small park in the center of the town. I suggest that you go to the Pokemon center and get the introductory pamphlets. Your Girafarig looks pretty sleepy."

Picking up Jimbo, I walked to the center. Once inside, Nurse Joy waved. "Hello! We're so happy to finally have a new trainer! I'll just give your Pokemon a checkup while you look around. Feel free to talk to the other trainers. I'm sure that they can help you get ready for your first Gym battle."

I smiled. "Um, sure. I'll just need to get some more Pokemon and do some training. _A lot_ of training." She was already walking to the back office, so I sat down and started browsing through one of the magazines. A guy sat down in the other seat. He seemed to be in his forties or so, wearing a top hat and a red cloak. Suddenly, I started to feel slightly nervous.

"Hello, Jessica." Reading my nervous expression, he hastily added, "It's a small town. Everyone's going to know your name before lunch time. I'm a comedic magician. A comagician, if you will. Call me Manny. I used to be similar to you. I came from a small town. Long ago, my region was highly disease-ridden. Spots in the town would be marked with signs detailing the diseases. Fortunately, the diseases, while very dangerous, somehow never spread very far. Therefore, all the signs were prefaced with 'Little.' The diseases, were eventually cured, so they would put a carat in between the prefix and the disease reading 'CURED.' My town used to suffer from ebola. Can you guess what my town's name was?"

Feeling more than a little confused, I shook my head. "Uh, no."

He smiled. "My town's name is Little Cure-Ebo."

Slowly, I edged toward the counter. "No offense meant, but that's one of the worst puns I've ever heard. How are your magician skills?"

Manny grinned again. "Why don't you tell me?" Somehow, he was holding my compass. He put it back in my knapsack and left the room, shouting, "I'll be seeing you!" as he left. Honestly, I felt more than a little creeped out by that.

Fortunately, Nurse Joy came back, holding a happily grunting Girafarig. "Here's your Pokemon, Jessica. I trust that everything will be okay. Have an excellent rest of your day and start training! There's a lot of people here who are eager to help you."

Placing Girafarig on a leash, I searched for the house with the green roof. This was it. I'd made it to my first town and a potential Gym battle. I had to step up my game and seriously start trying.

_To be continued..._


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Out of the ashes of writer's block, laziness, senior year, college preparations, and brainstorming rises the fourth chapter! Read and review, if you please. Have an excellent day!**

BEEP, BEEP, BEEP! Blearily, I woke up and turned off the alarm clock. Compared to last night's bumpy, rock-filled sleeping bag, this hotel room felt great. I felt like I had been doing nothing but sleeping for two months. As I yawned and prepared to face the brisk morning, I marveled at how much things had changed. I was away, on a Pokemon mission from the first time.

A soft chewing noise caught my attention. Jimbo was cuddled up on the back of my bed, eating my schedule for the day. Some things never changed.

**Jessica Milikan, Hard Luck Trainer**

**by MiscellaneousSoup**

After quickly rewriting the notes, taking a shower, getting dressed, giving Jimbo some PokeChow, and eating a granola bar, I finally made it to the police station. Surprisingly, a lot of people were waiting to talk with Officer Jenny. After waiting for about fifteen minutes, it was finally time to talk to her.

The grumpy-looking receptionist shoved a paper at me. "Fill this out. NEXT!" Okay, in that case, it was finally time to fill out a form letter. Maybe I can talk to her after I fill it out.

Sitting in one of the wooden chairs, I scratched Jimbo behind the ears and looked over the form. It was pretty basic, I just had to write down my name, my Pokemon, and my location at the time of the incident. The only tricky bit revolved around distinguishing features. I was really tired by the time I got to the center and the incident was so disorientating. I looked down at Jimbo. "What do you think, little buddy?" He grunted and started licking my knee. I'll just settle for writing down that he was wearing a black cloak. That was distinguishing, right?

Finally, finally, _finally_, I was able to talk to Officer Jenny. An hour and a half had passed since I had turned in the form and I was getting antsy. Fortunately, Jenny was friendly, so that helped to calm me down.

"Hello, Ms. Milikan. I read the paper and there's no need to be worried. Manny sometimes takes his act on the road. He likes to stop by the town several times a year in order to stake out the new trainers. Apparently, he wants to personalize his acts by including some local jokes about the terrain. It hasn't been very successful, but he's an optimist at heart."

I smiled. "Good to hear, I guess. I'll go, then, unless there's anything else you need me to talk about."

Officer Jenny nodded. "Actually, yes, there is one more thing. Come on, let's walk and talk."

As we left the police station, I started to feel nervous. As we got closer to the woods, I started to panic. What if the weird cloning thing they used to make the Jennys somehow malfunctioned and this one was a sociopath? I wish I had that stick again…

Finally, she stopped at a small cabin. "Okay, Jessica, I want you to meet our Gym leader."

I slowly edged away from the cabin. "Wait, wait, I'm not ready. I just got here and I just have Jimbo."

Upon hearing his name, Jimbo looked up. "Jim?"

Officer Jenny gave him a slight pat on the head. "Don't worry. I just want you to meet him. He's the oldest Gym leader in our region's history. Samuel, are you in?" She knocked on the door and a quavery voice told her to come on.

Together, we entered the cabin. An old man sat in a plush rocking chair, contentedly holding an ear trumpet and a thick novel. "Hello, Jennifer! It's nice to see you! I presume that another trainer has arrived? Better not be like that last one, Dipwad, or whatever his name was. First trainer in twenty years and he calls me an old coot!"

I slowly walked forward, extending my hand for a handshake. "Hello, sir. My name is Jessica Milikan." He had a surprisingly strong handshake.

"Greetings, my dear. May I please show you around?" He started to get up from the chair.

Before I could protest, Officer Jenny exclaimed, "Sure!"

"Are you sure? I don't want to make him exert himself." I whispered.

"I can hear you just fine. I have an ear trumpet. Now, let's get started." He hoisted himself out of the chair and started hobbling around. He pointed to a fancy rack of Pokeballs, many of which had an impressive collection of dust. "I'm nearly ninety years old. Sadly, some of my Pokemon years have passed away over the years, whether it be from old age, those Team Axel bastards, or some overzealous trainers in Pokemon battles. My Pokemon were cremated and I've kept their ashes in their Pokeballs ever since. It's my way of remembering them."

Jimbo started sniffling. I gave him a reassuring hug.

Samuel noticed that. "Ah, good! It's always nice to see a trainer who's actually friendly with their Pokemon. You wouldn't believe what I saw in the old days. Pokemon shocking their trainers, Pokemon flagrantly being rude, even Pokemon deliberately going to another trainer!"

It probably wasn't a good idea to tell him about Jimbo's lesser moments.

Samuel pointed to an ornate painting of a young man. "This was me in my younger days. Because so few trainers come here anymore, I've taken up painting. It's relaxing. Tom also helps with that." He whistled. "Here, Tommy!"

An Octillery waddled out, wearing a green sweater. It gurgled happily upon seeing us, and began pulling some scones out of the pockets. "Oct! Oct! Oct!"

I accepted one of the scones gratefully. I was about to break off a piece for Jimbo, but the Octillery had already pulled out some plants, to Jimbo's delight. "Do you have anything else to show us?"

Samuel shook his head. "Not at the moment. I just want to introduce you to my best friend, Tommy. He is my last Pokemon. We've been friends ever since he was born, twenty-two years ago. We're going to battle you when we're ready. Octillery may be old, but he still has lots of tricks! He also helps me in my weaker moments by grabbing various medicinal supplies and carrying them in his pockets."

I really didn't know what to say. Fortunately, Samuel stopped any potential awkwardness by announcing that he needed to take a nap. Officer Jenny and I left the cabin and walked back to the building in silence.

"I'm going to go to the harbor in a different district." Jenny said. "I need to check in on something. Have a good day, Jessica. Start training!"

I turned to Jimbo. "Okay, boy, are you ready to level up? How's about maybe finding another Pokemon?" I received a happy smile, or his version of a smile. "I'll take that as a yes."

_To be continued..._


End file.
